Flight of Fancie

by Linda Rettstatt

  Fancie hugged her mother. “Thank you, Mama. For everything. Looks like we’ll have another wedding to plan.”

  Her father groaned. Then he said to Luke, “Boy, I’m telling you now. If you wait to the last minute and change your mind, I will hunt you down myself.”

  “No chance of that happening,” Luke said. “I’m not letting this one get away.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Fancie lay with the moonlight streaming across the bed and stared at the glistening diamond.

  Luke propped up on one elbow and studied it with her. “I probably should have asked what kind of ring you wanted first. I can get you something else. I know that’s not the biggest diamond, but it’s a family heirloom.”

  “It’s perfect and I love it.” She rolled over to face him. “And I love you.”

  He pulled her against him. “I don’t want you to feel rushed. There is one thing I ask.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Come with me to Chadds Ford to meet my parents. They keep asking me about the girl who has me smiling and distracted all the time. I told them I was proposing and they went crazy—in a good way.”

  “When do you want to go?”

  “Fourth of July? It’s on a Friday, so we’d have the weekend.”

  “I can do that.” She traced her fingertips over his lips. “I’m so happy.”

  “That’s what I was going for.” He kissed her and then moved lower to nuzzle her neck, then her breast.

  “What are you going for now?”

  He grinned up at her. “You’ll see.”

  Fancie laughed and then gasped as he continued his exploration.

  ~

  They strolled through town the next day, confirming the rumor Marianne Babbitt had spread.

  “I can see why you love it here,” Luke said. “Are you sure you want to leave?”

  She squeezed his hand. “I’m sure I want to be with you. And, yes, I’m ready to leave. This will be a wonderful place to come back to for visits, but I’m ready to move on.”

  He stared down at her. “What changed?”

  “Someone reminded me of who I am. All the self-doubt, the confusion and fear—that’s not me. That’s some watered down version of me, and I’ll not let that happen again.”

  “Duly noted.” He smiled and then bent down to kiss her. “I’m going to love getting to know this version of you. By the way, how’s the book coming?”

  “You really want to know?”

  “Of course I want to know. I’ve hesitated to ask because some writers don’t like to talk about their work until it’s finished.”

  “The first draft is so close to being finished. Oh, Luke, it’s good. It’s really good.”

  “I never had a doubt.”

  “And what about your book?”

  “I’m still putting my notes together and filling in a few blank spaces. The chronology is the main thing I have to verify. Who knows? Maybe we could hit the best sellers list in the same month?”

  Fancie shook her head. “I feel like Alice having fallen through the looking glass. You are too good to be true, Luke Campbell.”

  ~

  Luke and Fancie met in the Philadelphia airport on July 3 and drove through the Pennsylvania countryside to the village of Chadds Ford.

  “It’s so beautiful here,” Fancie said.

  “It is. And there’s a lot of history in this area, too. The Wyeth family of painters are from Chadds Ford. Maybe we can visit the Brandywine Museum before we go home. I think you’d enjoy it.”

  “I’ve heard of the Wyeths. I’d like that.”

  Luke’s family could not have been more welcoming to her and Fancie quickly felt right at home. When she talked about Quail Hill and how much she’d like to have her wedding there, they were very much in favor.

  “I’ve always wanted to visit the South,” Luke’s mother said. “And your home sounds like such a charming place for a wedding. By the way, when is the wedding?” She looked from Fancie to Luke.

  “We haven’t set a date yet, Mom,” Luke said. “Don’t worry. You’ll know in plenty of time to find a dress and make plane reservations.”

  “I would think the fall would be a great time for a Southern wedding,” his mother said.

  “Yes, well, we have teaching jobs. That means no time for a honeymoon. Maybe during spring break?” He looked at Fancie.

  “Yes, spring’s a good time. It won’t be too warm in Mississippi.”

  Luke’s mother took her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m being pushy. I like to know things well in advance. You two are perfectly capable of making these plans on your own. I’m just delighted for both of you.”

  The subject came up again on the drive back to the airport. “So what do you honestly think about a wedding during spring break?” Luke asked.

  “I think that’s perfect.” She reached for his hand. “Almost in sync with the northern migration of Monarchs. They migrate north in late spring to early summer.”

  “And this is your migration?”

  “Something like that.” She paused. “I want you to know how much I like your family. They’re so easy to be with.”

  “They like you, too. Love you, actually. Especially Mom. She took me aside last night and ordered me to make sure I don’t screw this up.”

  “Is that a potential problem?”

  “Not as far as I’m concerned. You’re stuck with me, like it or not.”

  She grinned. “I like it.”

  ~

  When she returned home, getting back into her book was not as easy as she’d hoped. With the first draft finished, she had to start from the beginning and do rewrites. All Fancie could think of was that over the next several months, she’d be preparing for another wedding. One that would occur without incident, she was sure. She’d already planned her return to New Hampshire in late August. Luke assured her she could still get her old room back. She assured him that would be fine for work space, but she had no intention of sleeping there. He’d laughed that low, sexy laugh that made her nerve endings tingle.

  Her mother let herself into the cottage. “Fancie?”

  “In the bedroom, Mama.”

  “I haven’t seen you for two days. You okay?”

  Fancie sat up from where she’d laid across her bed. “Just thinking. Come in.”

  Alicia crossed to the bed and sat down, taking Fancie’s hand. “I’m going to miss you so much. But I’m also very happy for you.”

  “Thanks, Mama. I’ll miss you all, too.”

  “It’s time, though.” Her mother nodded toward the stained glass butterfly hanging in the window and sending a burst of color around the room. Her mother narrowed her eyes. “Did I ever tell you my theory of how the butterflies know where to go?”

  “You haven’t.”

  A breeze from the open window caused the butterfly to sway. “There’s a theory that Monarch butterflies are genetically programmed to make their migration journeys that lead them to the same place to which previous generations migrated. I do think it’s something innate to them.” She turned her head and looked into Fancie’s eyes. “I think it’s their purpose. Destiny.”

  “You mean it’s all planned out for them. They don’t have a choice?”

  “It’s not so much about choice. There’s something embedded in them that pulls them along because it’s the right thing for them to do. It takes them to where they belong. And I think that’s true for you, too. You and Luke.” Her mother kissed her forehead. “You belong with him.”

  “Mama, do you believe that’s true for you and Daddy? Was there ever anyone else for you?”

  “There was a young man, once, who pursued me.”

  “Did Daddy know?”

  She nodded. “He and your father were friends. He was a nice man, but your Daddy…he had my heart from the very first time we met.”

  Fancie smiled, understanding how that felt. “What happened to the other guy? You said he was a friend of Daddy’s.”
/>   “He still is.”

  Fancie recalled the conversation with her Uncle Avery. “Oh, my. It’s Uncle Avery?”

  Her mother nodded again. “He introduced me to your father. I felt so guilty at first. You know what Avery said to me?”

  Fancie shook her head.

  “He said, ‘If I didn’t know James Hollensby will treat you like you deserve, I’d fight him on this. But I want you to be happy.’”

  “That’s beautiful. All these years he’s been a part of our family, watched you and Daddy have the life he wanted with you.”

  Her mother’s eyes shone. “He’s a good man. I only wish he’d have found someone to love him back.”

  “He couldn’t find another you, Mama.” Fancie wiped away her own tears. “Jeez, look at the two of us. What are we going to be like when I marry Luke?”

  Her mother hugged her. “We’re going to be happy to the point of tears.”

  Fancie held her close. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Perspective. You always give me perspective.”

  ~

  Fancie drove the U-Haul truck and her cousins followed in her car. It was mid-August and students would soon be arriving for the start of classes. Some of the furnishings she brought that had been her grandmothers were stored in Luke’s garage temporarily.

  Her cousins spent the next day with them and then flew back to Mississippi after tearful goodbyes.

  Fancie pulled a printed manuscript out of her laptop bag and handed it to Luke. “It’s finished.”

  He traced his fingers over the cover page. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “Thank you. I have to figure out what to do next. I hadn’t thought of that. I guess I never believed I’d finish the book.”

  “You have options. Query an agent, a publisher, or publish yourself. It’s up to you. I’ll help in any way I can. It must feel good to hold this in your hands.”

  She took the manuscript from him. “It does.” She flipped to the second page and passed it back to him. “Read the dedication.”

  He stared at the page, then read aloud: For Luke—my best friend, my lover, my equal. I believe in me because you believe in me. This book is dedicated to you with all my heart.

  He cleared his throat. “Fancie, that’s beautiful. I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything.” She rose up onto her toes and kissed him.

  Luke set down the manuscript and lifted her into his arms.

  Later as the lay together in his bed, Luke said, “I didn’t rent any rooms out for the semester. I think I’m done with renters. We need to make this house our own.”

  “Good,” Fancie said. “Because I’ve been told the walls in here are paper thin.”

  “Who told you that?” Luke asked.

  “My cousin during our last visit when I came to pick up my car. Why do you think she kept grinning and winking at us?”

  He laughed. “Was she impressed with my skills?”

  “I didn’t ask.” She snuggled closer to him. “I’m impressed with your skills, though.”

  He pulled her on top of him and kissed her. “Where do you want to go for our honeymoon? Paris, Italy, Hawaii?”

  “Those are all lovely places that we might visit some day. Don’t laugh when I tell you where I want to go.”

  “I promise I won’t.”

  Her fingers twined the soft hairs of his chest and she looked up into his eyes. “I want us to go back to Tybee, to where we met.”

  “Really?”

  “You don’t want to?”

  “I want to go anywhere you want to go. I think that’s a wonderful idea. We’ll probably have to take Barney along.”

  “But of course. If he hadn’t run off that night, we might not have met. We owe him.”

  Luke studied her face. “We would have met. You’re my destiny, and I’m yours. I know that may sound corny, but I believe it.”

  She stared at him for a moment. “Did you know that Monarch butterflies travel thousands of miles to a place they’ve never been before in their migration? No one knows exactly how they know where to go? They just take flight and trust themselves, trust some internal GPS. It’s their destiny to end up where they belong.”

  His gaze locked on hers. “How was your flight?”

  “I must have followed the right path. Because I’m home.”

  The End

  About the Author

  Linda Rettstatt is an award-winning and best selling author of Women’s Fiction and Contemporary Romance. She likes to know what makes people tick and she loves a good story. This combination fuels her passion for creating stories that capture your mind and touch your heart. Linda grew up in Southwest Pennsylvania and suffers a bout of homesickness every October when she thinks of the fall leaves and trails at her beloved Ohiopyle State Park. She now lives in Northwest Mississippi with her cat, Binky, who only allows her to share the apartment because she brings home the bacon—er—kibble.

  If you enjoyed FLIGHT OF FANCIE, visit Linda’s website

  http://www.lindarettstatt.com

  where you can find links to more of her books.